you're a chemical that burns
by wendi bird
Summary: His first memory of her is a hazy one; there's smoke and screams - his screams, and he feels like he can't breathe. derek/faye


**entitled;** you're a chemical that burns (there is nothing like this)  
**summary; **_His first memory of her is a hazy one; there's smoke and screams - his screams, and he feels like he can't breathe.**  
**_**rating;** t  
**disclaimer; **i own nothing.  
**notes;** this is supposed to be a very late birthday fic for farin, but it took me much longer to work through than i expected. still, it's dedicated to farin and nikki over at the seven devils rp on tumblr, who play faye salvatore and derek hale respectively. hope you enjoy~ i love you both. i apologize for any mistakes you see, i've gotten too lazy to re-edit.

* * *

**you're a chemical that burns (there is nothing like this)**

.

_the static of your arms, it is the catalyst_  
_you're a chemical that burns there is nothing like this_  
_it's the purest element but it's so volatile_  
_an equation heaven sent, a drug for angels_

- strangeness & charm ; florence + the machine

* * *

His first memory of her is a hazy one; there's smoke and screams - his screams, and he feels like he can't breathe. It feels like the room is closing in on him and he can't see a damn thing to save his life. He remembers crawling on the carpeted floor of his grandparents' living room trying to find his way out while the flames lick at his already charred skin and clothing. He remembers the way the darkness began to cloud his vision just as he reached the front door, and finally a pair of soft, cold hands grabbing his arms just as the world fell away.

.

.

.

The first thing he realizes is that someone is shaking him - and rather violently, too. His eyes shoot open, but before he can catch a glimpse of the person hovering above him, he's coughing up a storm. His lungs are contracting painfully and his throat is burning as he tries to take in as much oxygen as humanly possible.

"Easy there, kid."

The feminine voice makes him jerk his head up and he finds himself meeting the gaze of the prettiest girl he's ever seen. She's wearing a sly grin on her lips, though he can tell by looking into her eyes - and what gorgeous eyes they are - that she seems genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"You saved me." the sound of his own voice brings him back to reality; so high-pitched and awkward compared to the lovely sound that had come from her lips that he has to remind himself that he's only ten years old and she only saved his life because it was the right thing to do.

There's an amused glint in her brown-but-not-_just_-brown eyes and she opens her mouth to respond when they hear it.

"_Derek!_"

For a moment, he's confused; like he doesn't understand who could possibly be calling him when he's standing in front of this girl. This perfect, beautiful girl who saved his life.

Suddenly it all comes rushing back.

The fire. Someone had started a fire while he was still inside his grandparents' cabin.

His head swivels around in the direction the voice had come from, and sure enough, his mother, father and sister were all running towards them, his grandparents not too far behind.

"Derek!" his mother sighs, falling to her knees beside him and wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace, "What happened?"

"I was playing a game on the computer, but it was being stupid-"

"_Language_."

Derek let out an exasperated sigh before continuing, "It was being _dumb_, so I went into the kitchen to get something to eat and I saw someone's shadow through the window. It looked like a girl, so I thought it was Laura trying to play some st-ah, _dumb_ prank on me, to scare me. Only it wasn't, cause next thing I know something's exploding through the window and I was trying to get out but I couldn't breathe and she saved me!"

"She?" his mother's brows furrow in confusion, as did the brows of the rest of his family when he points at the spot behind him.

Only when he turns around, she isn't there. The pretty girl who'd pulled him out of the burning cabin was gone.

His lips curl into a frown and he's looking around for any sign of her, his heart sinking with every passing second, "But, but she was there! She saved me…"

He can see the skeptical expressions on the faces of his family members from the corner of his eyes, but he refuses to acknowledge them; he had to believe that she had been there. She _had_ saved him, because if she hadn't, he'd be dead now.

"She did…" He repeats, his eyes watering the slightest bit and he reaches up to wipe them away before they can fall because Laura's there and his dad is there, and boys aren't supposed to cry, "She saved me. If she hadn't, I'd be dead and-"

"Oh, Derek." his mother murmurs, holding him tightly and pressing a soft kiss to his temple, "I'm sure she did…"

He hears her words, but he sees the looks his family is sharing when they don't think he's looking, he hears the talk of a possible concussion and post-truh-whatever when he's taken to the hospital. It's only when they're at church - because his mom can't seem to give him a break from that even after he's almost _died_ - and the pastor says that it was probably a guardian angel watching over him.

He thinks back, to her voice filling his ears, and the soft, barely there touch of her hands against his skin. To her pretty eyes and the way she glowed as she stared down at him.

Yeah. He can believe she was an angel.

.

.

.

From then on out it was all a blur; dreams, nightmares, hallucinations of sorts - which, in truth, weren't even hallucinations at all, he had come to learn. His parents start to think there's been some permanent damage to his brain, and insist he sees a therapist.

That goes to hell quicker than his parents can even comprehend.

But he makes it easier on them by claiming that they stop. The daydreams and nightmares and 'hallucinations'. He stops telling his parents about them and eventually, they lighten up. But he still sees her. More frequently in his dreams and nightmares than while he's up and walking.

She's always there to save him, and every time he asks her why, she disappears.

.

Ironically enough, the second solid memory he has of her is also one shrouded in flames. Unfortunately, it was much more tragic than the first.

.

.

.

There were screams this time. Several loud, painful, heart-wrenching screams. His uncles', his aunts', his cousins', his siblings'- every single one of their screams was etched into his mind. He wanted to help. _Needed_ to help. But it was slowly starting to feel like the walls were closing in around him; the smoke was forcing its way into his lungs with every breath he took and his vision was quickly deteriorating because of it.

"_Derek! Derek, where are you?_"

Something to his left crashes down to the ground, pushing the flames closer to him just as Laura's voice registers in his mind.

He tries to call back, tries to give her some indication that he's stuck upstairs but the minute he opens his mouth he bursts into a coughing fit. A small part of him hopes she can hear him, that she'll recognize his coughing over all the screams and the sounds of the house falling apart, but deep down he knows it isn't likely. Werewolf or not, there's too much going on for her to zone in on someone coughing, to tell it apart from all the other people coughing and screaming and _dying_.

_He_'s dying.

And the last thing he heard before the darkness consumed him was her voice. "We _really_ need to stop meeting like this, kid."

.

He jerks himself upright the minute he realizes he's not dead, his eyes wide open as he's caught of guard by more coughs forcing their way out of him. The burning in his throat, his lungs is much easier to ignore than the pounding in his head, but he manages to do both the minute he spots Laura unconscious beside him, with his uncle Peter - looking so much worse then either of them - a little ways away from them both.

He scrambles over to Laura, checking her pulse and visibly relaxing when he feels its even rhythm. He's about ready to run over to his uncle when she appears in front of him, arms crossed over her chest and her head tilting to the side as she takes him in, "So much like your father…"

He's frozen in place, wondering how she could be there. How could he possibly be thinking about her when his family's dead?

He didn't know. Didn't care. She wasn't real.

He's suddenly reaching into his pockets, hoping his cell phone is working but she'd already placed a gentle hand on top of both of his and he's frozen again.

"I've already called for help." she explains, looking as stoic as he's ever seen a person while showing genuine sympathy for him, "You need to calm down."

His mind is reeling; he's spent so many years thinking she was real, but knowing his parents were probably right about her being a hallucination - especially his father's encouragement that she most definitely wasn't real. But she was standing there. Touching him. Talking to him. Feeling sorry for him.

He yanks his hands out from under hers and takes a few steps back, eyes narrowing as he speaks, "_Who the hell are you_?"

He feels a 'what' would be far more appropriate than a 'who' seeing as she still looks exactly the same as she did when he saw her about seven or eight years ago, but he knows that's a question for later. Right now he needs to know who she is and why she'd been plaguing his mind for so long.

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Hale." she starts, taking a few quick steps towards him, a sly smirk on her lips, "Is that anyway to treat the person who just saved your life? For a second time in a row, I might add."

"So, it was you?" he blurts out, hope bubbling inside his chest before he can stop it, "You're the one who saved me from the fire all those years ago?"

"I did." She nodded, keeping her gaze locked on him as she started circling him, looking as stoic and guarded as he should have been.

But the shock was too much for him to remember to keep his walls up at all times. "Why?"

She took a while to answer, her gazing taking him in from head to toe. It should have made him uncomfortable or awkward, but there was this annoying fluttering in his stomach that he really wished would go away.

"I'm a- I _was_ a friend of your dad's, for a very long time." she murmured, something very similar to sadness flashing in her eyes before it was gone for good, "I couldn't just let you die. He would have had my head if he found out I had the chance to save you and didn't take it."

"How did you know my father? How _old_ are you?" He's trying to hold back the questions, trying to pace himself, but there are so many things running through his head and he can't bring himself to do so. Not when he'd constantly been talked down by his family members for even considering this girl, this guardian angel of his, was real.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to ask a woman her age?" she counters, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You didn't answer my question." he breathes out, fingers curling and uncurling as he fights the urge to shout at her to stop playing games; his family is dead, and he just wants some answers as to how she always manages to show up when he's in trouble.

"And I don't need to." Faye spat, eyes narrowing at his tone of voice, "My relationship with your father was _our_ business and nobody else's. So stop acting like a whiny little brat with all your questions and be grateful that I saved your life at all."

He's ready to retaliate, eyes narrowing at her words when the sirens fill his ears and he's spinning around to greet the sight of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances. He knows before he even turns back around that she's going to be gone, but he looks anyway, and when he sees nothing more than his sister and uncle on the charred ground, Derek can't help feeling a little bit empty inside.

.

.

.

There's too little he knows about her, too much he wants to know, but after that day, she's all he thinks about.

He's much smarter this time around, keeping his mouth shut about her; the last thing he needs is the doctors chalking it up to some more post-traumatic stress. But every single time he sees her, he refuses to believe its all in his head.

He takes to researching; the cool skin, ethereal beauty, the never aging, the quickness- he's on Google more often than not, looking for explanations, and really, just looking for ways to keep her from fading away into the farthest parts of his mind. Because aside from Laura, she's really the only connection to his family he has left. The only connection to his father he has left.

.

It takes a lot longer than it should to come across the answer that should have been like a flashing neon light in front of his eyes the whole time. He's out of high school already, and he and Laura have long since left their home in Mystic Falls, but he finally realizes that, considering what they are, her being of a supernatural origin really shouldn't be all that far-fetched.

Still, he's hesitant, but a single question to Laura about it, before she disappears on him gives him all the confirmation he needs.

.

It'd been a few years with nothing but mere glimpses of her, but after not hearing from Laura, Derek heads back to Mystic Falls and that's where he finds her again.

.

.

.

"Vampire."

"Excuse me?"

There's more amusement than actual shock in her expression as she stares him down, a delicate brow quirking upwards as little droplets of water trail down her soft, creamy looking skin.

'_Focus_.' He tells himself, scowling at the direction his thought process was heading, but really, he'd interrupted her in the middle of a swim, so it was his own fault. He could have easily walked away, but the sight was too familiar, and she was too hard to walk away from.

"You're a vampire." he spits out again, narrowing his eyes and desperately hoping that he's hiding his anxiousness as well as he thinks he is.

"Good job, wolf boy," she tells him with a smirk, folding her arms together directly under her bust; whether she did it on purpose or not - though he's pretty damn sure she was every bit aware of what she made him feel - his eyes automatically lower before jerking back to the amused glint in her eyes. "Did it take you all these years to figure that out?"

"No." he answers, a little too quickly and she lets out a small laugh, shaking her head before reaching up to ring the water out of her hair.

And he can't help watching her; the way the water travels across her skin, the way the slowly setting sun makes her skin glow, the way the dark locks of her hair stick to her skin once she's freed them from her grasp. She really is as beautiful as her remembers.

"Like what you see?"

Only slightly less angelic.

Scowling, Derek shakes his head; he tries to ignore the heat that rushes to his cheeks, but he's sure she can see how flustered she's gotten him, and he deems it pointless, shrugging in response.

At that, she seems genuinely surprised and is standing in front of him in an instant, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed, "How'd you find me?"

"I came looking for my sister." he answers automatically, though mentally cursing himself for doing so when she'd so blatantly refused to answer his questions all those years ago, "She came back into town, looking for someone, and I haven't heard from her in days. I hadn't expected you to be here."

"Of course you didn't." she murmurs, taking a single step back and looking him over; taking him in entirely for the first time since their conversation first started, "I met your father in high school, you know. He was about as stubborn and irritating as you are now. As you've always been, actually."

"How would you know?" he asks, his voice quiet, calm; he's hoping to actually get some answers this time.

The smirk makes its way back to her lips, "You were so adamant about me not be a hallucination before, wolf boy, has that changed?"

"I was a kid," Derek argues, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest- an action that isn't lost on her at all, "It's easier to believe now, that I was nuts back then, rather than that you were real."

"Oh, but that second fire-"

"That second fire proved you were real, not that I'd seen you any other time than that first time you saved me, and that second time." Derek interrupts, feeling himself growing the slightest bit defensive in spite of himself.

"Quit kidding yourself," she responds with a roll of the eyes, "You saw me, and this is me telling you that I was keeping an eye on you- your father at first, but after that first fire-"

"Why?"

"The hunters. They were after your dad." she answers through pursed lips, "After your entire family. And I never really liked that Argent bitch-"

"_Kate?"_

"Will you _stop_ interrupting me?" she hisses, throwing a well-aimed punch at his shoulder- one that actually hurt.

"Ow." he murmurs, reaching up to rub at the spot more out of reflex than anything, though, "How do you know Kate?"

"Is that your bitch of a girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Whatever. But she was the one I caught setting fire to your place the night your family was killed." she tells him, the way her fingers curl into a fist not escaping his line of vision.

Still, he can't seem to focus on that; all he can focus is on Kate. Kate and his family. Kate and the fire. Kate and this girl - whom he still hasn't asked for a name - and it feels like he's unraveling.

"Whoa there, wolf boy." she murmurs, taking a step forward and placing a cold hand on his shoulder, "Did you not know she was a hunter?"

"I…" his words trail off, but he did. He does know she was a hunter. She is a hunter, but he never would have imagined Kate capable of killing his entire family, of setting his home ablaze and killing his parents, his cousins, his _siblings_. All of them so young, so innocent.

Shaking his head, he jerks away from her, "I have to go."

He's walking away from her and for the first time, when he brings himself to look back, she's still there.

.

.

.

The initial shock is the worst part; the realization that this girl he was with, this girl he loved - but wasn't in love with, not really - was ready and willing to kill his family, kill _him_ in the blink of an eye.

But it doesn't take too long for him to go back asking questions; she's this person he's constantly held up on a pedestal because of the fact that she was always there when he needed her. He knows she isn't really this perfect, pure angel watching over him.

He thinks she might be better.

.

.

.

"My name's Faye, in case you were wondering."

He looks over at her, brows shooting up at the words coming out of her mouth; they've been at it for a while- the questions, the banter, the occasional eye sex (because he honestly can't even deny it to himself), and it honestly never occurred to him to ask her for her name.

Still, somehow it fits; it feels familiar and all he can bring himself to do after that is nod. She already knows his name, after all, so what more can he possibly say?

He figures it doesn't really matter.

.

.

.

He's never been the one to get emotional, never been the type to let his walls fall for the sake of some girl, but she does things to him that no other girl ever did. Still, he's careful, cautious; he keeps himself from saying anything too stupid, he doesn't want to put his hopes up for this girl - this wonderful, beautiful girl he'd been dreaming about all his life, and had saved his life on more than one account.

But no matter how hard he tries, he knows he's bound to slip up, and he knows she'll never let him forget it.

.

.

.

It happens on the night of her birthday.

.

He's reading, trying to learn some information on the Lockwoods- because hello, werewolves! How did he not realize his friend Mason had been a werewolf? Weren't these things supposed to be easy to detect in other people when you were a werewolf yourself? Maybe he'd just been too wrapped up in his own little Faye Salvatore world.

But he's reading when she storms into the, burned, human-hazard of a house, all rage and pain and-

His thought process has halted, because her lips are on his, her fingers weaving themselves through his hair as she straddles him; he's dumbfounded, temporarily incapable of doing anything and it doesn't take her long to realize that he isn't responding.

Pulling back, she looks at him, frustration evident in her expression, "Come on, wolf boy." she growls, leaning in once more and biting down on his lower lip. It's that action that finally pulls him out of his stupor.

His arms are snaking around her waist, pulling her body closer to his as he moves his lips against hers, sucking and licking and biting in response to every soft sound leaving her lips.

There's a part of him - the _logical_ part - that knows he should be stopping this; this thing they have going has been the highlight of his days, and while he craves every bit of her on nearly a daily basis, he doesn't want to ruin it. Not to mention the whole vampire-werewolf thing was a bit of a strain on their already weird relationship.

If he could even call it that.

Still, he can't bring himself to fight her, not when she's pressed up against him and her lips feel so good moving against his.

.

It's hard and fast and literally everything he'd imagined it would be, and more. It's loud and hot and she feels so good writhing underneath him, all he can think is that he doesn't want the night to ever end.

But their getting closer and closer to the end, and her nails are dragging oh-so-painfully slowly down his back, piercing the skin on his back and pulling a hiss from his lips just as he feels her tightening around him. Her back is arched, pushing her body closer to his and the next thing he knows, he's seeing white and her name is leaving his lips in a breathy moan.

.

It's hours later, laying next to her on the ground, their bodies covered in ashes and debris that he brings himself to ask, "What was that?"

She stiffens for a moment in his hold, but he's tracing circles on the skin of her lower back and she can't seem to stay that way for long, "It was my birthday."

"And that gives you the right to jump a guy in the middle of reading just because it's your birthday?" he questions, a snort leaving his lips, "Come on, Faye."

"You can't tell me that wasn't a long time coming," she counters, shifting her weight so she was on her side facing him, that smirk on her lips, "We both know that's what should have happened the first night in the clearing by the Lockwood Lake."

He purses his lips, wanting to disagree but knowing that if he hadn't left so abruptly that day, they probably would have ended up in a very similar situation, the only difference being he'd have been the angry one.

"Why were you upset?" he asks instead, hoping to divert her attention, only to have her tense in his arms once more, "Faye?"

"I don't want to talk about it." she murmurs, and in a swift movement, she's straddling him and rolling her hips teasingly against his, "Plus, I think it's about time for the next round, don't you?"

He knows it's a diversion; she knows what she does to him and it's so easy for her to use that against him, but he thinks that she'll tell him these things when she's ready.

.

.

.

It was sex. Nothing more.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

But the way she pulls back, the way she closes herself off, clues him in on the fact that she's pretty sure it's turned into something more.

.

.

.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he demands one night, showing up on her doorstep without warning.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she says, ready to slam the door shut, but he stops her.

"Don't fuck with me, Faye." he snaps, forcing his way inside and hoping her brothers weren't home; Faye he could deal with if they were alone. Having her brothers around would only make her work harder to keep those walls of hers up, "You've been avoiding me and I want to know why."

"It's nice to want things, Derek." she hisses, glaring at him as she slams the front door shut behind him, "But you're wasting your time here, because I don't have to tell you anything."

"You slept with my fucking father, Faye, I think I'm allowed to demand answers after a storm out like that." he tells her, the mere thought of it making his stomach clench painfully, "You could have told me at any time, or not at all, even - because we both know, I wouldn't have found out with how well hidden the two of you kept your relationship hidden - but you let it all out on that night. And I think you did it, to push me away. You wanted me to get mad at you. And now, I want to know why."

She's silent after that, and he thinks she might actually refuse to answer him when she opens her mouth, clearing her throat before saying, "I don't do feelings, Derek. I don't do _weak_."

That simple statement made his heart break.

"Faye…" he sighs, walking towards her, wanting to hold her, but she was quick to lift a hand up.

"Don't, Derek." she tells him, shaking her head fervently, "Don't you dare throw your pity at me."

"It's not pity!" he snaps, smacking her hands out of the way and cupping her face in his hands, "Will you stop with the walls and defenses for once and just let me be there for you? It's not a weakness to feel things, Faye. It's not a weakness to let someone love you."

Her eyes fly open, wide and full of surprise as she stares up at him, all signs of resistance gone, "You…You love me?"

His heart was suddenly pounding in his chest; that hadn't been the direction he'd hoped to have this conversation head in. He wanted her to acknowledge her feelings for him, get them back on track but he hadn't once anticipated spilling his heart out to her. Not yet; he couldn't afford to push her away by letting his feelings become known.

"I.."

"You love me?" she asks again, gripping his wrists in her hands, "How can you love _me_?"

"Faye," he starts, twisting his wrists free from her hold and lacing their hands together, gripping tightly, "I get it… This whole thing with feeling like it's impossible that someone could possibly love you after all that's happened with your brothers, but I'm pretty sure I've loved you from the first moment I saw you."

"No, no, no." she murmurs, shaking her head back and forth, trying to pull back but Derek refuses to let her go.

"Don't do it, Faye. Don't push me away." he tells her, pulling her to him and pressing his lips against hers without hesitation. She resists at first, desperately clinging to the walls he knows she's trying to keep from falling away completely, but soon enough, she's sinking into him, responding to the kiss and pulling him even closer.

He was positive his head was going to explode; it seemed he really never could get enough of her. When the need for air came, Derek pulls back a bit, resting his forehead against hers, "I'm not going to let you push me away, Faye."

"I'm not good with this emotions thing, Derek." Faye murmurs, sliding her hands from his and resting them on his chest, "I never have been."

"We'll work on it." he tells her, his lips brushing against hers with every word, "Just stop trying to push me away."

A small laugh left her lips, "I can't promise anything. But I'll try."

"That's all I need to hear." he grinned, pulling her in for another kiss.

There really wasn't anything more he could ask for.

**[end.]**


End file.
